


Familial Sentiment

by ShezzasCompanion, the_east_wind_is_coming



Series: Familial Sentiment [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Reichenbach, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Violence, past abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShezzasCompanion/pseuds/ShezzasCompanion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_east_wind_is_coming/pseuds/the_east_wind_is_coming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things for Sherlock Holmes have never been easy, especially not after returning from the dead. Things that he thought he had left behind have now started to resurface and in the middle of the chaos the one thing he had been searching for is found. It was always said that Sentiment is an element of the losing side, unless it comes to family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awake My Soul

**_The Personal and Private Journal_ **

**_Of_ **

**_W. S. S. Holmes_ **

**_Day One:_ **

_I am not writing this damn journal for the sake of what the therapist and my damn siblings. They are not getting me to open up in this thing and if they are going to read anything, it will be this._

_**Day Two:** _

_See Day One._

* * *

The consulting detective sat on the sofa of the nearly empty flat that he had occupied since he first left Victor all those years ago. He curled onto his side and groaned, feeling the pain from the last few days radiating through his body. He rolled onto his side before hearing the door open and spotted the second youngest of his siblings.

“Vienna, what are you doing here?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, scowling at her. “I don’t want you or anyone else around unless you’re telling me that therapy is done.”

The surgeon glared at her brother before sighing and sitting in her brother’s chair. “Look, William…” He glared at her as she said his first name. “I mean, Sherlock, you need to do this… It’s going to be helpful. You know that I am right.”

“Yeah, because you are the all knowing Vienna Holmes…” He muttered, rolling away from her. “Look, I am not talking about Redbeard or my childhood or anything! Okay?”

The younger Holmes sibling sighed and looked to the other with a frown. “I can’t believe I am doing this…” She muttered, glaring at the consulting detective. “I’ll write a journal if you do, Sherlock.”

He looked to her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, really? Would you actually discuss what happened to you in uni?”

“No! No way in hell am I writing about that!” She hissed, glaring at her brother. “Nope, no way, not happening.”

“If you do, I’ll write about Victor…”

There was a pause as Vienna looked to him, shocked that he would stoop that low to try and get his sister to open about her. “F-Fine.” She replied quietly, her arms folded over her chest, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I’ll write about that… I’ll indulge your curiosity.”

The consulting detective noticed the way she fell silent and the way she held herself afterwards and sat up. “You don’t have to write about that if it’s still too soon.” He murmured, looking to the surgeon. “If you aren’t comfortable doing that then I won’t make you…”

* * *

**_Day Three_** :

_Does this make me a horrible person? I am giving into the therapy and hopefully the fool I have will actually know a few things about human nature that would actually be helpful for the whole Post-Traumatic Stress disorder… Maybe my methods in actually convincing someone, well Vi, to do this with me were immoral and wrong but maybe it will help her as it might help me…_

_I don’t even see why she cares so much about me other than the whole fact that we’re siblings and all. I’m a bloody prick and no one can stand to be around me, but then again most think I am still dead and a fraud… The only reason I came back was that I had to and Sherrinford and Mycroft dragged me back from the Serbian compound they had found me in… Though one of them and I am not going to be naming which brother, but I was surprised he even showed up when he could’ve been using the time to cheat on his diet with cake rather than save me from the compound._

_What had happened in there was just like a similar time from my past that still haunts me, only they wouldn’t stop… Victor would. Who is Victor, you ask? Victor Trevor was the first and only relationship I had, if you could even call it that. He was an abusive man, he did terrible things to me and he was the reason she left me… I purposely forgot her name so when thinking about it, it would be less painful and easier to move on. Wrong. All wrong… I can’t move on from her… After all she promised me, I can’t forget her face, the way she treated me and the fact that she was the one who would save me from that life, she had promised to run away with me and as soon as we were free from him, she ran away. She ran away without me and I was left with him and that life. I regret forgetting her name because then I would be able to search for her and try find out if she still remembers me and would come back to me… If she would run away with me once more._

_To be honest, I am sick of waking up in a sweat and wondering if any of this is real or if I'm going to be back in the cement prison with no food and no sleep, unless you count being beaten to unconsciousness as sleep. It seems that recently 'danger night' has become one of my oldest brother's favourite words and they are whispered to the other siblings. The lot of them have been keeping a watchful eye on me and I feel like a child being babysat or an entrapped animal at the zoo, only I have less freedom. If only I could find a way to talk to John and then maybe I would be okay._

_Speaking of the army doctor, how would he react to this? Would he be happy to see me or would he be like Cera and be angry at first and slowly forgive me. What about the others? What Mrs. Hudson do? Or Molly? Or even Lestrade? How would they react?_


	2. What doesn't Kill You (Makes You Stronger)

_**My life according to my Therapist, the personal and Private Journal** _

**_of_ **

**_E.H.H. Watson._ **

****  
  


**_Day one:_ **

_I don't even want to write this, not for me, not for anyone else to read, regardless what anyone may say, out of all people who need to talk to someone about their life and issues, it is not me._

_**Day two:** _

 

_I did not sign up to discuss the last fifteen years of my life, I am suppose to talk about the patient that I got attached to, not about Uni, not about HIM, and definitely not about my home life. I want a refund. This is ridiculous and not what I signed up for._

* * *

 

The nurse frowned as she looked down at her reflection in the surface of her black coffee as she hunched herself over the table, She was tired, her bones and muscles ached from being on her feet for so long on so little sleep, and the fact she had to sit in the hard chair in the little cafe John had chosen to meet at had just agitated her more.

"You can't just blow this off Elizabeth" John sighed as he leaned forward, hands clasped before him, the lines on his face hard and as much as his mustache hid his mouth, she knew his lips were pursed. "You need this, it can help, if you go to your sessions and-"

"And what? Tell them all about my life? Let them in and examine me like some medical student would examine some cadaver?" Elizabeth cut him off, her eyes finding his face.

"What if I do it with you?" He asked sincerely. "I"ll start writing the blog again as long as you write the journal and go to your sessions. This just isn't about that kid you lost at work, this is about home, Uni, and Afghanistan."

Elizabeth sighed as she ran a hand over her face as she sat up, her spine popping at the movement, “I will only go through this, completely the sessions, the journal whatever else she throws at me, if, if you write about Sherlock” It was a low blow and she knew it. The Consulting detective was a major sore spot with her brother, they had been best friends and she was asking him to do what he couldn’t do with his own therapist. He looked at her, disbelief written across his face as he shook his head a fraction as if her request was too much.

“Sorry” She said quickly “ You don’t have to write about him, I know it is still too soon, write about something different then? your job at the clinic, that Girl that you are dating that I can’t stand, You don’t have to write about him, it is too painful I know.”

“Just promise me you will do this, I can’t lose you too”

* * *

_**Day Three:** _

_John thinks this will help, that discussing all of my issues with some ‘professional’ like Ella will help me get passed working so much by the time I leave and go home I am too exhausted to think  and despite the fact that I do sleep in the on call room during the lulls in the Emergency room. Who knows maybe this will be beneficial and I can go back to the person I use to be, the non-workaholic nurse who takes all the overtime she can get._

_I still can’t grasp why he wants me to go through with these sessions, maybe  it is because he has seen the change that has occurred over the last few years, maybe he doesn’t want me to end up like Harry who has gone back to drinking again.  maybe it is because he knows what it is like to be this way, this lost and holding everything in and he doesn’t want that for me. He wants me to be happy I guess but that will be hard, to be truly happy and I only found that once, and that was when I begun Uni._

_What happened at Uni? Well it was the first time I had an excuse to be away from home for any length of time and I wouldn’t get in trouble for it.  You have to understand, that my home life was not spectacular, My father was abusive and cruel, and University was a nice escape from all of that. And t was even more of an escape when I met him…. He was the reason I survived for the most part. He kept me occupied and away from the house, he was suppose to tutor me in Chemistry but we didn’t really study. I remember his name, William Holmes, and I had a picture of him when I went off for Service, but it got lost during a field rescue. I feel terrible, and I am probably one of the worst beings on the planet. I promised to run away with him, Run away from my home life and help him escape his abusive boyfriend, but it never happened. I left. I was forced to leave, threatened really by people who were friends with Victor and I had no proof, there was no way I could tell Metro about the incident, So I left. I fled. I left him there with them against my better judgement. I wish I knew what happened to him really, I have searched for him thousands of times, but I never found him. I wonder if he has ever forgotten me. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. but if I did ever find him again, and if the chance arose once more I would certainly run away with him. Run away far from this nightmare._

_I am tired. honestly tired of finding escapes that aren’t the healthiest for me. I have already commented on the fact that I work myself to the bone but there are times that I don’t work that much, that I have time off, and I think what I do in my spare time is what scares John the most. That is what makes him Think I am turning into Harry. I tend to sleep most of the time that I have off, or I find myself in the company of a beer or two and that is probably just as bad. Before you start to worry, I don’t go to work drunk and I don’t keep working to the point I can no longer do my job. I know the way I have written it seems like all I do is work and sleep and drink, but I do tend to be a functional member of society._

 

 


	3. Shadow of a Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This Chapter contains minor character death and surgical procedures that may be uncomfortable and possibly triggering

_**Day Four:** _

_So much for not waking up in a sweat… I can’t believe that I am actually thinking about agreeing to listening to my therapist… I am going to be so disappointed in myself if I start thinking like her too… I am a brain person, not a heart! Oh god, I might even start using some of her terms.. I need out of this! She says that suppression is never the key and that the memories will keep coming back and what if I keep suppressing her and maybe her name will come back… I don’t even know anymore, I am just getting sick of being watched over by my siblings and that woman that is living with me. At least I think she is… She’s rarely here, to be honest, and I’m always in my room… or working on this ruddy case…_

* * *

_The shouts echoed throughout the room, hitting the consulting detective’s ears with a harsh manner, the voice of their sender just as harsh. The men in the room were muttering to the other in Serbian, the consulting detective tracking their every word and movement, hoping they hadn’t noted the way he lay, hiding his face from the guards._

_“This idiot thinks he’s faking sleep.” The taller guard snarled, looking to the other shorter and fatter than the first. “We should try see if the pipe is going to break his spirit just as we broke a few ribs.”_

_The other chuckled lowly, looking to the other man and shook his head, returning in Serbian. “This idiot is so---”_

_Sherlock turned to face them, a snarl escaping his lips. “If anyone in the room is an idiot, it’s the two of you.” The consulting detective murmured in Serbian, eyeing up the two men as though to size him up. He forced himself to stand, feeling his muscles screaming in protest as he tried to stand tall, the fact that they were correct about his broken ribs was a surprise to the detective._

So... _The detective thought._ They aren’t as stupid as they seem.

_Before he could move another inch, he felt them pull him by his mass of messy black curls and towards another room and to whatever painful fate waited._

__

* * *

He awoke in the safety of 221b with a shock, his breathing laboured as he relived the events that occurred a few months prior to his return. Yes, John was not happy with him but he had been out and moved in with his fiancee, Mary Morstan, and Mycroft and his siblings were busy with their jobs. So he was given a babysitter. Elizabeth… He didn’t even bother to remember her last name, nor did he care. He didn’t want her company and she clearly didn’t want to be here either. The fact of the matter was that Mycroft was worried that he would fall into the patterns of his “terrible twenties” despite the fact he was clean ever since he ran away from Victor all those years ago.

Today, she wasn’t here. At whatever job she held and so he found himself face to face with his youngest sister, Cera. He looked her over and sighed, smelling the bitterness of tobacco on both her breath and her clothes. The shakiness of her hands meant something more, meaning either coke or heroin. He then looked to her clothes, seeing that they were of high fashion so she just got off from either a shoot or a runway show, which was improbable seeing as it was midday. He was cut off mid-thought as soon as the younger model spoke, glaring at the man.

“Quit making deductions and answer my questions, William.” She scowled, arms crossed as one of her fingers tapped on the skin.

“First, answer a few of mine.” He returned, narrowing his eyes on her catching a few of the fresh track marks on her arms and a small bruise hidden beneath makeup on her cheek. “Are you back with Garrett?”

Cera didn't meet her brother's eyes, instead she looked everywhere but the detective, she could see him shaking his head out of the corner of her eye,but didn’t answer his question. She couldn’t help but notice the way he was, bags under his eyes as though he hadn’t slept for days, her own deductions taking over her thoughts.

“I can’t help but notice that you fell silent, sister dearest, when I had just as much reason to question you as you did to me.” He said with unamused smirk, watching the model head towards the kitchen and start the kettle. “Tell me the truth, Issabeau. Are you with that bastard?”

She turned sharply and walked quickly towards him, tears in the corners of her eyes. “Why should I tell the man who didn’t tell me that his suicide was faked?” She looked down, shaking her head. “Two. Years. Two fucking years, William! No note, no call… Nothing!”

 

* * *

 

The woman smiled as she looked over the manila envelope’s contents, tracing her finger of the photo of the Holmes siblings in different places, her main focus on the surgeon and the model, tutting at them.

“Oh those two are such teases, making the world believe that Mercy Grace is a real person… Shameful.” She purred, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes before feeling the buzz of her mobile in her pocket, hissing out. “Oh fuck off, big brother.”

_Boss wants you, Julie. -SM_

“Tell him to fuck off.” She sneered as she read the text, not bothering to respond. “I am busy doing my own work for him… Gathering information on your precious Holmes family.”

_You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting… I can see you doing nothing, Julie… -SM_

Juliette continued to ignore the texts before finally a gunshot rang out through the room, shattering the vase behind her, the contents scattering onto the floor. She glared and looked to the window, and flipped off the sniper in the distance before finally picking up her phone and dialed her big brother.

“What do you want?” She hissed, rolling her eyes at the shattered glass. “And you should know better than sending your little tiger to shoot at me! Besides, the owners of this house won’t like that he shattered one of the vases…”

“Why should they care? I’ve just finished having fun with the husband. Likes to scream, you would’ve enjoyed watching that..” Jim returned, scalpel in hand as he started to carve into the woman’s skin, listening to her scream against the cloth in her mouth. “Shut up! I’m trying to focus here!” He hissed to the woman.

“You didn’t tell me you were carving them alive!” Juliette pouted, walking out the door of apartment. “I’m on my way, and I got some more info on your precious Holmes siblings.”

Jim groaned and sighed. “It better be good… I can’t risk exposing myself just yet, Jules…”

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that.” She hissed, locking up the apartment with an eyeroll. “You know that daddy called me that and you know where that got him.”

“Yes, yes, I know… You shot him and that landed you in prison, you psychopath.”

“Aww, thank you… I love you too.”

“That wasn’t supposed to be a compliment, you fucking idiot.”

“Shut it, big brother… And don’t send your sniper to babysit me… I am fine.”

Jim groaned and looked at the door. “Still, just because you claim to be fine, doesn’t mean you are, Julie… You just got out of prison three months ago.. You are a key player in ensuring my return is a fluent one… You have paid off Magnussen’s people, correct? And he is being a good distraction for the boring old consulting detective we both love so much.”

“Not yet, it’s going to be a while until he actually is back as well, Jimmy.” Julie said before hanging up, the woman rolled her eyes before hanging up and shoved the contents of the envelope back in before putting it and her mobile in her purse as Sebastian pulled up in front of her as she exited the building.

“Call me tiger again and the bullet won’t be in the vase, Jules.” He smirked, looking up at her from the driver’s seat.

“Call me Jules and you will be the next person I’ll be skinning alive.” She returned with a purr. sliding into the backseat.

“I ain’t your chauffeur, Julie…”

“No, you’re the army madman that is a replaceable sniper. Just because you are shagging Jim, you don’t get treated like an equal.”

"Besides I ain't paid to babysit your psychopathic ass. I already have to do that with James and my own fucked up mind."

"Oh, go cry me a fucking river, tiger." Juliette muttered, low enough for Sebastain to hear.

Just as he was about to pull away from the curb, he pulled out his handgun and shoved it into her mouth. "What the fuck did I tell you, darling? Don't. Call. Me. Tiger." He shoved the cool barrel deeper into her throat, fear flashing into her eyes, before pulling away. It fell silent for awhile before Sebastian broke the silence. "I thought so."

Juliette scuttled away from the sniper, who held his calm and collected manner, driving off towards her brother, wanting to be picked up. He looked back to her in the mirror and called. "Just because you’re the boss's baby sister doesn't mean I treat you as an equal either."

* * *

_One… Two… Three…_ The surgeon counted the number of times she scrubbed her hands as she prepared herself for the upcoming surgery, it was a cardiovascular surgery on a 14 month old. The heart wasn’t a problem for her, it was the age that made the whole thing more challenging. She was used to doing adults and older children, more ranging towards the 16-90 age range. She wasn’t a pediatric surgeon, she was a cardiac and neurosurgeon. She looked into the mirror above the sink and felt a pat on her back before turning to see Elizabeth Watson. The surgeon smiled weakly before letting out a sigh and proceeded to the room.

“Let’s do this, Dr. Holmes.” She commented, not putting two and two together to realize that she and the man she was babysitting were related by parents and were in fact siblings.

“Please, call me Vienna.” The surgeon commented, walking past the nurse and paused, holding the door for her. She heard her phone go off once and turned to check it, several unread texts from her twin sister in regards to their older brother.

_Help me, Vi! I was stuck babysitting our favourite consulting five year old… -CH_

_Seriously, Innessa! He brought up Garrett! -CH_

_Not my fault you’re still with the bastard._ The surgeon thought, rolling her eyes at her mobile.

_Fine! Ignore me… Your twin. -CH_

_Oh wait, it’s the big day… Shit, sorry… -CH_

_Hope it goes good, sister dearest… -CH_

Vienna groaned as she scrolled through them, shaking her head. She set the mobile aside and turned to the nurse with a sigh. “Siblings… My sister wants to trade places with me… though the only medical thing she knows is CPR, so it won’t be that helpful...”

* * *

Elizabeth sighed this was the big day, the day that patient she had gotten attached too would undergo the procedure to save his life. Therapy had been preparing her for the worst, that was the idea when they had learned about her involvement, only because every surgery comes with a risk of death, nothing was ever guaranteed, and if you did guarantee everything would be a hundred percent okay, you were lying to yourself and the patient.  Sighing she picked up the bar of soap and began to scrub in, truth be told, she should have already done this, and she had. she had scrubbed in earlier with a few of the other nurses who were to assist on the surgery. She should have already been on the other side of the doors, but as always, that was not the case. The family had wanted to speak to her, they wanted reassurances from the nurse, who in her free time wasn’t babysitting a grown man with the temperament of a five year old, she could be found at the bedside of the child. Why? She had no fucking idea.

The sound of the rushing water caught her attention once more, something just didn’t sit right with her about today, maybe it was the fact that she was suppose to be babysitting like she had promised before her schedule was changed, or maybe it was the fact that she did not give the family the reassurances she could have given them. With the water off, she pushed her way through the doors back first. She was then cloaked in the blue surgical gown as her hands were shoved into the pale elbow length latex gloves.

It wasn’t hard to discover she was to stand besides Vienna, nor was it difficult to comprehend she was the nurse that was going to hand over the instruments and keep an eye on the monitors.

The surgeon sighed as she watched the final member of the operating team file into the room, her icy eyes narrowing on the head nurse of the room before dropping her voice to a whisper. “How were the parents?” Usually Vienna could distance herself and keep her emotions and sentiment at bay but the fact that the patient was born just over a year ago was startling and that it lived this long with a hole in his heart. She was used to doing heart surgeries but not on something, no someone this young was scary and it didn’t help that she had no experience with the pediatric side of surgery so the head of pediatrics was standing in the background for guidance on the anesthetic and the proper handling that would follow afterwards.

“Worried like any parents should be” Elizabeth replied as she looked at the surgeon “We went through the procedure and the risks once more before assuring them we would try our best  however the best bet would be to expect the worst” She continued as she glanced at the vitals monitor to her left.

The surgeon nodded and kept her eyes closed as she took a few calming breaths before turning to the interns nurses, which was insisted upon by their head of staff and was an absolute horrible idea in Vienna’s opinion. She sighed and shook her head as she finally began to start the surgery.

“Start the anesthetic, Nurse Harford. Make sure bypass is on standby as well.” She ordered, holding her hand out as she turned to Elizabeth. “Nurse Watson, pass the scalpel and keep a watchful eye on the patients vitals. Doctor Zavanella, please stop breathing down my neck, I can literally feel the warmth and smell the onions from your lunch.”

Elizabeth picked up the scalpel and gingerly placed it into the waiting hand of the surgeon. “Here you go Doctor Holmes” She stated as she glanced towards the vitals monitor.

She didn’t bother to mutter a “thanks” and like most of her siblings, tended to be more focused on the task at hand to be polite to any of her staff. She looked to the anesthesiologist, who gave a nod to do the first incision.

Elizabeth turned her gaze to the monitors as the first incision was made. “Be Ready with the bypass please” she stated as she looked towards Hartford.

As soon as the surgeon dug the scalpel into infant’s skin, she looked to the monitor for her own accord. “I need to hear the vitals, Watson.” She called, turning her attention back to the patient and looked at the smallness of the heart, her eyes widening before gaining her professionalism back. She had also grown a bit attached to the boy.

“Vitals are sta- Vitals are dropping Doctor, Oxygen saturation is low, blood pressure is plummeting, and heart rate is increasing”  Panic laced her voice as she turned her attention back to the child on the table before looking to her colleague as she began to call for various medications to be administered.

Panic rose in Vienna’s face, her icy grey eyes narrowing on the screen before trying to stitch up the hole as quickly as her shaky fingers would allow. “Doctor Holmes, that isn’t going to help him.” The other doctor spoke, trying to pull her away.

“It’s best we try something and----” She stopped just as she heard the flatline, her hands pulling away and fell silent, pulling away and looked at the clock on the wall. “T-Time of Death, 1:34 and 25 seconds, in the afternoon… I’ll tell the parents after I stitch him back up…”

“Why?” One of the other nurses asked, looking at Vienna with a bit of confusion.

“Because their son deserves to at least be clean when they bury him or even see him.” She spat, fighting back the tears in her eyes. “Nurse Watson, you and the others may leave.”

Elizabeth turned abruptly, ripping the gloves and the gown off of her body as she stormed towards the door in pain and anger. She promptly ignored the others who followed her, her feet pounding against the linoleum quickly, with a thrust of her hands she burst through the door that lead to outside, it was cold, shockingly so, but it was quiet as the city would allow, and that was what she needed.

The other nurses and staff had left the operating room and Vienna knew she had to keep herself composed as she stitched up the infant, her hands still shaking slightly as she picked up the suture and closed of the skin, letting her tears fall as soon as she was done. She looked to the door and made her way towards the boy’s parents, sighing as she composed herself and formulated where to begin.

* * *

_**Day Four:** _

_I lied... I am not a productive member of society, how can I be when I can't even stay and finish my job as a scrub nurse.... what where john and Harry thinking when they set me up for this? Saving me? Ha, more like they hoped it would  save me, stop me from having some mental break down if worse came to worse. Because honestly, talking about my feelings, the interests in my life, and how much she thinks I have been living in the past was suppose to help me now. Maybe I shouldn't have listened to them, maybe I should have just stayed at the flat with my less than cooperative and hardly seen flatmate, if he is that, I hardly stay there anyway, he probably wouldn't notice if I died, he hasn't even properly seen my face._


	4. An Unexpected Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finds things out that he was about to forget while dealing with the aftermath of Serbia still fresh in mind. How will he take this news? Will he be able to accept it or will he just go back into his bedroom and refuse to leave?

_Day Five:_

_If people think, I’m a psychopath, they clearly haven’t met my older brother, Sherrinford… That saying of that man who could make a kitten cry is based on him… Or at least that’s what Cera and Vi say… They always use such strange metaphors that I do not comprehend. Why can’t they speak like the rest of us… Either way, that man is starting to drive me mental and the last thing England needs is an even more unstable consulting detective..._

 

* * *

Sherrinford Holmes was a tall man, and the way he was towering over his baby brother as he slept was almost borderline psychopathic, a large grin on his face as he saw the younger and (only by a few inches) shorter Holmes stir and shoot up in a panic and stare at the older man, whose ginger hair was all over the place.

 

“FUCKING HELL, FORD!” The consulting detective shouted, shoving the MI-6 agent aside and grabbed for the sheets around him, covering his chest. “What in god’s name are you doing here? Is it your turn to babysit me or are you dragging me out to another case? Mycroft has me trying to remain focused on the whole “underground terrorist threat” that he’s all worried about.”

 

“Nah, it’s just a bit fun… Like the old days, when I would wake you and Myckie up like that… Sort of nostalgic, really…” He returned, smiling at the detective. “Besides, I figured you should know that ma and dad are coming into London to check up on you as well…”

 

“So another set of eyes watching over me, hmm?”

 

“They’re worried about you, we all are… And honestly, are you still sleeping with a weapon under your pillow?”

 

The consulting detective rolled his eyes and looked to the bedside table and pulled out a handgun. “Not necessarily under my pillow but it’s nearby.”

 

“Still, ‘Lock… You’re paranoid and showing signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder… Wait! Was that one of my guns!” He asked, examining the handle and looking for his usual engravings, finding them right away. “For Gods sake, ‘Lock! Ask next time!”

 

“You’re sounding like a bloody teenage girl who had her favourite outfit nicked by her annoying, little sister.”

 

“Yeah, right…. Knowing you, you probably messed up my closet while looking for the bloody P66, it is only for agents of MI-6!”

 

The consulting detective rolled his eyes at the assassin, shaking his head. “And yet you prefer to use the messier guns and the rifles that you have hidden underneath the kitchen table of your flat… What did you tell the contractor when installing that island?”

 

The assassin fell silent and looked to the floor, pouting slightly at the fact he was being told off by his baby brother. “I said the usual…”

 

“And what was that?”

 

“...... Zombie apocalypse.”

 

“Someone’s been watching too much telly with our baby sister…” The brunette muttered, shaking his head. “Which zombie movie was it this time? Or was it a series?”

 

“I am not disclosing the details to you! That means more blackmail for the consulting detective!” The ginger returned, shaking his head. “Honestly, do you really think I would tell you that?”

 

Sherlock shook his head and let out a soft chuckle, looking to him with a large smirk. “Seriously, though, the guy believed you?”

 

“Yeah! He even agreed with some of my bloody theories…”

 

“And if I wasn’t trying to stay clean, I would ask you to share whatever the fuck you are on.”

 

“I am not even on anything, brother dearest…” Ford said with a smirk and with a small wave, he left the flat and left the consulting detective on his own, with his thoughts.

* * *

_Day Five:_

_This is it, for the most part, things have been set into motion, probations have been passed out as well as suspensions until things are sorted and the one thing that has motivated me for ages is now out of reach until further notice. That means I may actually get to see the illusive man that is my flatmate, if all goes well then I may not go stir crazy. But there really is only one way to find out._

  

* * *

It was not even the end of her shift as she stood at her locker, emptying the contents into the book bag she carried to work. It had been hours since Vienna had informed the patient’s parents about the fact that their child is now deceased. She certainly didn’t expect how quickly everything was set into motion.

 

The last few hours were spent discussing the events of the surgery and what had exactly happens at the time of cardiac arrest. Closing her eyes, Elizabeth leaned against the cold metal of her locker, her mind replaying the last few hours, She really could have gone without this, but she figured the suspension was decent for her. The Hospital still needed the surgeon, being down a nurse gave the interns more experience anyway.

 

Quietly she closed the locker door as she secured the fastening on her bag and headed for the door. Her timecard had been stamped and she was officially off the clock. She didn't look in any particular direction as she made her way to the exit. She ignored the looks o,f her colleagues as she went. Everyone knew what happened by now, everyone had their own version.

  

* * *

 

Sherlock sat in the living room, looking over his old photos from uni, most of them of her and him. He desperately flipped it over to see if there was a name of her but found nothing but the logo of the photo shop watermarked. He shook his head and looked to the fireplace a few feet away from him. If he wanted to get over her, he should delete all evidence she existed… Or so his therapist said…

 

_But she is an idiot…_ The detective thought as he looked over the photos before setting them down on the table and went to start a fire, shaking his head as he was actually giving the therapist a chance and taking her advice. _But it might actually work._

 

This had been the longest the consulting detective had been out of his bedroom in weeks, ignoring the ringing of the doorbell before looking up at the nurse, or his main babysitter arriving, holding the photos still in hand.

 

Elizabeth stood in the doorway for a moment before walking towards her charge. Her eyes flicking down to the photos in hand, her heart stopping for a moment as she saw the photo, or a copy, of the one she had taken to Afghanistan with her, the one that got lost in the hot sand.

 

"You have changed, haven't you, _William_?" She said softly as she stared down at the image. "Besides the obvious change of name, but your hair, your mannerisms as well"

 

Sherlock looked to her with a raised eyebrow. “What are you saying, that you know me from before, Miss…. Watson.” He paused and looked to her, the shock in his eyes slowly turning to anger. “E-Elizabeth…. You left…. After everything you said, you fucking left me… YOU LEFT! ”

 

The nurse took a step back, her eyes moving from the image in his hand to his face. "I can explain... William... I have to explain what happened... things were not like anyone told you."

 

Sherlock shook his head, tears in his eyes and walked towards her. “Then tell me what the fuck happened…” He paused, hearing the way his tone was, before softening his tone. “Please, Elizabeth, explain yourself.”

 

Elizabeth made a face at his harsh tone as she placed her bag on the ground near what was John's chair. "A week before I up and left, Victor cornered me outside the science building and he told me in not so kind words to get lost, and I didn't. I blew it off... that was a mistake on my part and I found that out the last night you saw me." She intertwined her hands and glanced towards the ground, waiting for him to respond.

 

Sherlock fell silent and looked to the nurse, closing his eyes as he took in her words. “He… He lied to the both of us.” He murmured, shaking his head. “He said to you that I wouldn’t get hurt and that you had to leave me in order to keep me safe…”

 

Elizabeth nodded "He did say that, and then he made his point clear and I left, but I kept your picture, the one you were holding in your hand. When I got back from Afghanistan, I searched for you, but I wasn't aware you had changed your name."

 

The consulting detective fell silent, looking down at his lap as she spoke. He looked up at her as soon as she mentioned that she had no idea he had changed his name. “I figured the whole “Sherlock Holmes” thing in the newspapers would have brought you to me… I would’ve wrote to you but if Victor found out, he would have killed me… And we both know I literally mean that.”

 

The nurse sighed "Do you actually think that I pay that much attention to the papers? All I had to go on was a name, I lost the picture of you out in the middle of the desert on a field mission. And as for Victor, I know he would have, but he has no means of keeping tabs on me, he hasn't since I was at least 25. I have only been back in London again for three years, doubt you could have found me in that time."

 

He nodded and looked up at her as he started to understand her absence, the fact that neither had control in the matter, that one was in London solving crimes while the other was in Afghanistan fighting in a war. He nodded once more and looked to her with a soft smile. “I couldn’t have… I was too busy and distracted with my own life to try and find the one who promised to save me from my past that I had pushed you to the back of my head.”

 

"You deleted me" she stated, "I would delete me too actually, someone who lied to you and left you to deal with uneasy and undesirable conditions, after promising a lifetime together, that is definitely worth a deletion"

 

“I only deleted your name, it was to protect you.” He murmured, looking at her. “That was the only reason why.”

 

Elizabeth shrugged "I was never one for personal safety, you know that" she muttered. "Anyway I should leave you to burn your photos, I'll be upstairs...."

 

Sherlock looked to her with a bit of hesitance, his icy eyes narrowing on her. “I am not going to be burning your photos.” He murmured, looking to her and then the photos in hand. “I suppose you talked me out of it…”

 

"Nice to know my presence was somewhat useful today" She remarked as she picked up her bag. "Have to be useful somewhere I guess, but I will still be upstairs."

 

He went to stop her but found that he couldn’t move from where he was and just walked back to the sofa. “I’ll call you for supper, that is if you don’t have any other plans…”

 

“Nope, no plans” she called as she paused on the bottom step. “I guess that is what happens when you are suspended from work”

 

Sherlock paused and looked to the nurse with a raised eyebrow, a bit surprised by her words. “Wait, why were you suspended? If I recall correctly, you were on par with the medical skill required by a nurse, even if you were shotty with chemistry.”

 

Elizabeth turned and looked at him. “A patient died on the table today, everyone who was in the Operating room is suspended until further notice”

  

* * *

  

The mobile on the surgeon’s nightstand rang once, indicating a new text had arrived, her motivation below her norm and ignored it until a few moments had passed until she got a string of texts from someone who was clearly dying to get ahold of her. Groaning loudly and swearing softly at the ceiling, Vienna had pushed herself up to a sitting position before grabbing the beeping device. Knowing her siblings, one of them would be all “I’m sorry about work” and the others wouldn’t give a shit about it. The sender was a nice surprise, it was Sherlock. He rarely texted her unless it was important or need some body part for an experiment.

 

_[2 NEW MESSAGES]_

_[From: William]_

_[Sent: 12:36:29]_

_I heard about what happened at work. Would you like to meet for lunch?_

_\--_

_And I suppose I have to go back to Molly for parts while you and your team are on suspension._

_[Sent to: William]_

_[Sent: 12:59:46]_

_I’ll be fine… not the first time the COM reacted horridly._

_\--_

_Besides, they were trying to give me time off anyways…_

_\--_

_They think I’m a workaholic..._

_[NEW MESSAGE]_

_[From: William]_

_[Sent: 01:04:58]_

_Aren’t you though? Or is that a bad thing?_

_[Sent to: William]_

_[Sent: 01:06:24]_

_They think it is but it’s not for us, brother dearest._

_\--_

_Dear lord, I’m sounding like Myc… I need to stop hanging around him._

_[3 NEW MESSAGES]_

_[From: William]_

_[Sent: 01:09:16]_

_Another bad thing?_

_\--_

_And please, never refer to me as that unless we’re being sarcastic_

_\--_

_You do know that your skills as a surgeon was limited on this one surgery… You are a trained cardiovascular surgeon. Not a pediatric one… IF anyone should be at fault, it’s your “COM” fault, whatever or whoever that is._

_[Sent to: William]_

_[Sent: 01:11:54]_

_COM is Chief of Medicine, aka the higher ups._

_\--_

_Yes, and if I start to sound more like big brother, I might grow a strange obsession with umbrellas and sweets._

_\--_

_Any sighting of your “babysitter” as you and John call her?_

_[2 NEW MESSAGES]_

_[From: William]_

_[Sent: 01:15:09]_

_Remember that girl I told you about from uni?_

_\--_

_It’s her… She’s my roommate._


End file.
